


Where the Love Light Gleams

by AgentStannerShipper



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, M/M, Post TGC, all the christmas fluff, basically the kingsman fam goes on vacation, but no one is dead, holiday bonding retreat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Merlin arranges for the Kingsmen to go on a Christmas vacation in the mountains.





	Where the Love Light Gleams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joe_Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joe_Alex/gifts).



> I really hope you like it, because it fought me tooth and nail to happen. I know some of the things contradict headcanons we've discussed, but I'm a big supporter of multiple universes, so that's why.  
> As usual, not betaed or Brit-picked, so let me know if there are any issues. Title from that traditional holiday song, "I'll Be Home for Christmas."

“A bonding retreat?” Eggsy says sceptically. “What happened to ‘we’re spies, we aren’t supposed to get attached?’”

“It died with Chester King,” Merlin says firmly. Chester’s law of the land was utter bullshit, and if Merlin has any say in it (and he does), the new Kingsman is going to have a few changes from tradition. He lifts an eyebrow, “Unless, of course, you don’t want an all-expenses-paid vacation?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Mmhm,” Merlin nods. “That’s what I thought.”

***

The first thing Merlin hears when he walks into the hanger, flanked by Harry, Percival, and James is, “Wow, I thought I packed a lot.”

It’s not actually directed at any of them. Rather, Eggsy is grinning at Olivia. He has a pack slung over his shoulder and one by his feet, but it’s nothing compared to the five separate bags (plus one carry-on) that Oliva is loading into the plane’s cargo hold.

“I thought I’d get a bit of work done while we were on holiday,” she says.

Roxy comes up behind her and slings an arm around the tech’s shoulders, “At this rate, you’re going to beat Merlin out for resident workaholic.”

“That’s the plan,” she says cheerfully, hip-checking Lancelot gently.

“Vivian, I thought I told you that this was supposed to be a relaxing holiday?” Merlin says, alerting the younger agents to the presence of the older ones. He can’t really talk; he has a few different projects – and his tablet, of course – packed into his own suitcase, but at least he’s only bringing the one.

“You did,” Olivia shoots back. “This is my idea of relaxing.”

“Are you sure she’s not your daughter?” Harry asks Merlin.

“Believe me,” Merlin tells him, “if she was my daughter, you’d know about it.” His partner chuckles and takes Merlin’s suitcase, loading it into the plane next to Olivia’s.

“Oi,” Eggsy says, jerking his chin towards James, “if I’da known we could bring non-Kingsman family members, I’d have invited Tilde along.”

“I _was_ an agent, you know,” their former Lancelot says. “It’s not like we’re bringing a civilian.”

“Yeah, but Tilde knows about this shit,” Eggsy argues. “She ain’t exactly a normal civilian, and it ain’t like this is a mission or anything.”

Merlin rolls his eyes and heads off the argument before it can develop further, “Eggsy, you didn’t ask to invite Tilde. You still have time to call her if you’d like.”

“Aces!” Eggsy grins, and slips off to make a phone call.

***

The plane is a tiny bit crowded with eight people on it, but Harry can’t find it in himself to be bothered by it. It is, after all, still a private plane. Compared to a commercial flight, it’s positively spacious. At least they don’t have to be cramped into tiny seats, and there are no screaming children.

Merlin and Olivia are in the cockpit, and snatches of their conversation drift back into the main cabin through the open door. Harry isn’t sure if they’re discussing one of the sci-fi shows they share a love for (and Harry is so glad that his partner has found someone to discuss them with, because it means Harry doesn’t have to play along anymore), a new piece of tech they’re developing, or both. Harry isn’t unintelligent by any means, but he’s also clueless when it comes to engineering, and most of the jargon is going right over his head.

James and Percival are side-by-side on the sofa built into the side of the plane, and Roxy is sitting across from them, leaning forward with her chin in her hands, listening to James tell some story about a mission where he had ended up taking control of a plane that Harry is fairly certain he – and Roxy, for that matter – has heard before. Percival watches his partner like a hawk, shifting forward every time James’s hand goes subconsciously to his chest, a habit he’s picked up every since the stab wound that never healed quite right. He’s fine, although he’ll never be fit for missions again, but Percival still keeps a close eye on his husband whenever they’re together.

The rebuilding of Kingsman means a good deal of changes to the organization, and Harry is glad that this is one of them. Percival and James don’t have to hide what they mean to each other anymore. James may be a bit over-the-top at times, and Percival may be reserved bordering on repressed, but Roxy is the perfect mix of her uncle and his husband, and the family dynamic balances itself out.

Eggsy comes to settle next to Harry, Tilde by his side. Harry really does like her. Merlin had explained how she and Eggsy had met, and once Harry got over laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the scenario, he’d insisted on meeting her himself. Eggsy had introduced her as his fiancé and used the opportunity to ask Harry to be his best man (“Look, it was you or Merlin, right?” he’d said. “I feel kind of bad just picking one of you, but with Merlin still in physical therapy, I figure it’d be better if he spent the ceremony sitting down, you know?”).

“Glad you could join us,” he says to Tilde.

She smiles, “Glad to be invited.”

“It is Christmas,” Harry says. “It’d be a shame to separate families on Christmas.”

“But we’ll be home the day after, right?” Eggsy asks. “Mum and Daisy wanted to see me and Tilde before New Year’s.”

“We’ll be home on Boxing Day,” Harry promises.

“Are you going to see your family for the holidays?” Tilde asks curiously.

Harry laughs. He looks around the plane, at James and Roxy and Percival, at Merlin and Olivia, and then back at Eggsy and Tilde. “I am,” he confirms. His family is, after all, right here with him.

Less than half an hour later, they touch down in the mountains. The location Merlin planned for the retreat is in the middle of nowhere, more or less, because it’s actually a Kingsman safehouse, so far off the records that even most of the agents hadn’t known about it. Harry had used it once, when a particularly bad knife wound had meant transporting him back to London was too risky. Merlin had offered to come out and stay with him, but been denied by Arthur.

Currently, Merlin is unloading the suitcases from the plane, dropping them into the snow with just enough caution that nothing inside breaks. He’s wearing his field jacket but no gloves, and he looks completely comfortable despite the thick swirls of snow. Tilde too looks completely at home, but Eggsy and Roxy are shivering and exchanging nervous glances.

The next time he looks up, Merlin sees the two younger agents, and reassures them, “There’s a village at the base of the mountains. If we happen to need anything, not that I expect we will, seeing as we’re only here for a few days, we can ski down.”

“ _You’ll_ do nothing of the sort,” Harry says. “You’ve just barely finished your physical therapy. I am _not_ allowing you to risk hurting yourself on skis. Especially since you’ll have to hike back up.”

Merlin shoots him a filthy look and James snickers. Percival sighs, “If you two could refrain from bickering?”

Harry and Merlin raise their eyebrows in unison, and Percival sighs harder.

“They’re fine,” James says. “It’s a moot point. Neither of them need to go. If we need anything, I can-“

“Stay right here while someone else goes,” Percival interrupts him. “You’ll strain your heart. No need to take unnecessary risks when we have four perfectly good young people for that, at least one of which we know is an accomplished skier.” Roxy preens a bit under the praise.

“Are you calling me old?” James sounds scandalized.

“Now who’s bickering?” Harry mumbles, and Merlin grins at him.

Eggsy’s jaw is set, like he’s fighting to hold in a laugh, and Roxy says, “No offense, Uncle James, but you sort of are.”

“Don’t make me ground you, young lady,” James teases back.

“Are we going to stand around freezing our arses off, or are we going to go inside and get warm?” Harry asks, cutting off whatever argument, playful or otherwise, is about to break out. It’s also a tiny bit to spare himself, because he knows the next step would probably be James pointing out that there are two members of Kingsman who are older than him, and while Harry likes to think himself the picture of ‘aging with grace,’ he also doesn’t need the extra reminders.

Merlin lifts his own suitcase and passes Harry his, and then leads the way into the main cabin as the others follow suit. There are actually five cabins in total, four clustered around the larger central one, and as they step inside, Merlin tells the group at large, “There are tunnels underneath that connect the buildings, in case you don’t want to have to step outside.”

“Because it wouldn’t be a Kingsman complex without at least part of it being underground,” Tilde jokes. “You spies and your secret bunkers.”

“We live to be dramatic,” James says seriously, and Percival rolls his eyes and hides a smile.

It looks almost exactly the same as the last time Harry was here: muted wooden accents, slightly peeling off-white wallpaper, and a thin layer of dust coating furniture that probably dates back to the organization’s founding. The colour scheme of brown and grey and green settles over the room like a mouldy blanket, but it’s nothing a few candles or some festive decorations won’t fix.

Merlin raps his knuckles against a door off the living room and says, “These stairs lead to the other cabins. Each one is equipped with one bedroom. That means you’ll have to share. Eggsy, I assume bunking with Tilde won’t be a problem?” They both nod. “Percival, you and James, of course. Please try not to keep everyone up all night.” Percival flushes, and James smirks. Merlin ignores them and continues, “Roxy, you’re with Olivia, and Harry, you’re with me.”

“I feel like I’m getting a mission assignment,” Harry can’t help but joke. As if he would sleep anywhere else but next to his partner.

“We all know that’s a mission you’d gladly take,” James says under his breath, grinning until Percival elbows him sharply and he shoots him a wounded look.

Harry notices Eggsy’s frown, but before he can ask, Olivia cuts in, “Why don’t we unpack and reconvene here in an hour?”

“Splendid idea,” James says.

Merlin nods, and they split up in their assigned pairs.

***

Up until this trip, James and Percival had vaguely known from Harry that there was a safe house in the mountains somewhere, but they’d never actually been. It’s a little less ostentatious than expected; even the Kingsman safehouse tend to display the opulence of an organization founded by the rich.

As he drops his suitcase on the bed and opens it up, James says, “Well, it could use a fresh coat of paint, but overall I think it’s charming.”

Percival nods in agreement, “I’m sure Merlin has put fixing it up on his list of things to do as we rebuild.”

“That man is going to work himself to death,” James says.

“We’ve been saying that for years,” Percival points out. “Now that he’s officially promoted Olivia to Vivian, I think she’ll be able to coax him towards retirement.”

“God knows he and Harry are getting old enough for it,” James laughs.

As James removes a layer of his own clothes from his bag, Percival catches sight of a stack of clothing underneath, and he sighs. “Please tell me you didn’t bring the sweaters.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” James says, pulling them out and setting them on the bed, putting one hand proudly on them. “Of course I did.”

“Merlin is not going to let you get him into that this year.”

“He does every other year. Why should this one be any different?” James asks innocently.

“Because this year it’s not just the four of us,” Percival points out. “When have you ever known Merlin to relax around anyone besides us and Harry?”

“And that’s why I’ve recruited Harry to help,” James says smugly.

“You’re going to lose an arm,” Percival says dryly. He knows Merlin has brought his clipboard, and he knows the wizard keeps a very large knife inside it.

James laughs, “Merlin wouldn’t dare. Not with my guardian angel hovering over me.”

Percival rolls his eyes, “Babysitter, more like.”

“You could back off just a smidge, darling,” James suggests.

“Never.”

James smiles and pulls Percival down on the bed to join him, “I thought you’d say that. Everything will be alright. Trust me.”

Percival sighs again but shares a smile with his husband. “I always do.”

***

As Eggsy examines the room, he decides that it resembles the bedroom of an underground B&B more than any of the villain hideouts he’s ever been in. Still, he turns to Tilde and grins, “Swankier than a bunker, ain’t it? I know it isn’t a palace, but-“

Tilde puts her finger over Eggsy’s lips, “Don’t you finish that sentence. I love it. It’s very cosy.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy says. He knows he should be less insecure about this. Tilde has told him time and time again that she doesn’t need all the fancy stuff to be happy, but it still hits him sometimes that he’s still just a kid from the council estates and she’s a real, honest-to-god princess.

As if sensing his doubt, Tilde wraps her arms around Eggsy’s neck and says firmly, “I love it.”

Eggsy smiles and relaxes into her embrace, “I love you, babe.”

***

 “So what do you think?” Roxy asks, setting her suitcase on the floor. “Rock-paper-scissors for who gets the bed?”

Olivia drops her six bags unceremoniously and flops back onto the mattress. She folds her arms behind her head and grins playfully at the agent, “Why bother? It’s a big bed. We can both fit.” She stretches, managing to take up a shocking amount of space for a woman her size.

Roxy is highly trained in the art of concealment, so she absolutely does not blush when she says, “Oh. That could work. If you’re alright with it, that is.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t,” Olivia assures her. “Fair warning, though. I’ve been told I’m a cuddler.” She winks at Roxy, who laughs because the other option is to ask who exactly Olivia has been sharing a bed with, if they’re still in the picture, and if they tend to be athletic brunettes with skill sets that lean more towards espionage.

And if Roxy doesn’t care enough to check the closet for the cot that Olivia knows, courtesy of Merlin, is absolutely in there, well, Olivia isn’t about to bring it up.

***

“Are you sure you’re alright, darling?” Harry asks, hovering just behind Merlin rather than unpacking his own suitcase.

Merlin huffs and physically brushes him off, nudging Harry back a step, “I’m _fine_ , Harry. Honestly, I’ve barely been on my feet at all today.”

Harry looks hurt, and he backs off, sitting on the bed and picking at the sets of folded socks at the top of his luggage. Merlin sighs, “Please don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting,” Harry says stiffly. “I’m terribly sorry if my concern for your wellbeing is bothersome to you.”

Merlin sets down the stack of jumpers he’d been arranging in the dresser, and shuts the drawer, then strides over to Harry and lifts his chin with one hand. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” he says, “but you’re going to work yourself into another migraine worrying about nothing. I don’t want you hurting yourself over me.” Even now that Harry’s memory is fully back, getting shot in the head means more than just him losing an eye. Merlin worries about Harrys recurring headaches about as much as Harry worries about Merlin’s recovery from losing his legs.

Harry stands, pressing his forehead against Merlin’s. “I’ll make you a deal,” he says softly. “If you take it a little easier, I won’t fuss so much.”

“Deal,” Merlin agrees, and seals it with a kiss.

***

Merlin ignores the looks Harry keeps giving him as he unpacks the provisions into the kitchen. There are rations in the pantry, of course, but they don’t include things like hot chocolate mix or eggnog, and definitely not traditional Christmas turkey, and Merlin isn’t going to let the holiday go by without a proper Christmas dinner. Harry’s ‘death’ meant Merlin hadn’t had anyone to cook for him the past two years. He’s hopeless in the kitchen, and James and Percival aren’t bad, but the former can only make pastries with real success and the latter tends to stick to simpler meals. Besides, Christmas with them but without Harry hurt too much, so Merlin had stayed in and eaten Chinese food alone instead.

Not this year. This year Harry is back and Merlin’s getting his proper Christmas dinner. If, of course, Harry doesn’t murder him with the daggers he’s glaring.

“I promise I’ll sit down when I’m done,” he tells Harry.

His partner joins him and helps unpack the last of the supplies. When they’re done, he gives Merlin a little push towards the sofa, freshly dusted courtesy of Harry. Merlin sinks onto it with a sigh, an ache he hadn’t even noticed disappearing as he sits and stretches his legs out. Guiltily, he thinks that maybe Harry has a point. He has been pushing himself a bit more than strictly necessary.

As if reading his mind, Harry takes a seat next to him and murmurs, “I told you so.”

“Don’t get cheeky,” Merlin says, but he lets Harry roll up his trouser leg and detach the prosthetic, his hands gentle as he massages at the muscle, avoiding the spots he knows are sensitive.

“Put it back,” Merlin says softly after a minute. “The others will be up soon.”

Harry doesn’t give him a lecture, just helps him refit the prosthetic and adjust his trouser leg. Harry still hides behind his glasses or eyepatch, at least in polite company. They’re both still adjusting to their conditions, and showing that vulnerability in front of anyone but each other is a hurdle they’re not ready to take on just yet.

As if on cue, footsteps thunder up the stairs, and Roxy and Olivia burst through the door, giggling. Merlin twists to look at them. Roxy has a strange metal device curled around her ear, and Merlin frowns, “Roxy? What on earth are you wearing?” She had turned down a hearing aid when Merlin had offered to make one for her, to help with the hearing loss in her left ear, and he’s not sure what else it could be.

“She’s helping me test a prototype,” Olivia explains.

“We already have the glasses,” Harry says, “and I’m not sure that’s…the most inconspicuous.”

“That’s not the device,” Olivia says. “It’s just recording the data for me.”

“Data?”

“Contacts,” Roxy explains. “To replace the glasses.”

Merlin frowns, “Is that safe?”

“They’re not fully functioning,” Olivia explains. “I’m mostly recording data about eye movement and the like. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t be testing them out if I wasn’t sure they were safe for humans to use.”

“Huh,” Merlin says. “Contacts?”

Olivia shrugs, “Next logical step. Assuming I can figure them out, they’ll be just as effective and a good deal harder to break or lose.”

“I dismissed it because exposure to the elements put too much risk to short circuiting,” Merlin says. “Even just watering eyes could be dangerous.”

“For now,” Olivia says. “I’m working on it.”

If anyone can figure it out, it’s Olivia. A swell of pride blooms in his chest, and Merlin wonders if this is how his predecessor felt when he had first been promoted to Vivian.

Eggsy and Tilde resurface, with James and Percival right behind. Merlin squints at the latter pair, who are in just a tiny bit of disarray, and decides he doesn’t want to know.

“Tilde wanted to know if we could go skiing,” Eggsy says.

“We don’t need to get anything.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eggsy says. “Just for fun. I’ve never been.”

“Oh, it’s loads of fun,” Roxy says.

She glances at Olivia, who nods, “I’ve only been once or twice, but I’d love to try again.”

“Skis are in the closet in the front hall,” Merlin says, nodding towards it. “Boots too. Percival, are you going with them?”

He hesitates, looking at James, and then shakes his head, “I’ll stay here.”

“Aw,” James teases. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, darling. You could go.”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” Percival says.

Before James can needle him further, Roxy says, “Just the four of us, then. Don’t worry, we’ll be back before dark.”

“Bring your coms with you,” Merlin requests. “If you get into any trouble, give us a shout, and Percival will come collect you.”

“Thank you for volunteering me, Merlin,” Percival says dryly. “It’s very much appreciated.”

“Would you rather I send James out instead?”

“Of course not,” Percival shakes his head quickly.

“It don’t matter,” Eggsy says. “We won’t get into any trouble. Promise.”

“We’ll see about that,” Harry murmurs.

Eggsy gives a cheeky salute and the four of them clomp out of the house. James and Percival settle on the sofa opposite Harry and Merlin. “Almost like old times, isn’t it?” James remarks.

“Old is definitely the word I’d use for it,” Merlin says.

“Not all of us are looking to retire just yet,” Harry says.

Merlin shrugs. He knows this is a sore spot for Harry, and he loves his job, but he can’t deny he’s been thinking about it. “I’ve got a few years in me yet. But Olivia’s really coming into her own. She’ll make a wonderful Merlin someday.”

“Assuming she can stop making eyes at our Lancelot long enough to actually direct missions,” James grins.

“It worked well enough for Merlin and I,” Harry points out.

Percival blinks thoughtfully, “That’s true. I suppose we’ll have to start calling you Hamish, won’t we? Since Olivia will be Merlin.”

“Careful,” Merlin threatens with absolutely no heat. “I’m not retiring yet.”

***

Harry is practically falling asleep on Merlin’s shoulder by the time the skiers return, shaking powder out of their jackets as they strip off their layers. Roxy’s hair is absolutely soaked through, as is Olivia’s, and the two girls are all but falling over each other giggling. Harry’s eyes are only half open, and even he can see the obvious looks passing between the two. He wonders if he and Merlin were that unsubtle in the early days of their relationship. Given the look James shoots his way, he thinks so.

“Have a good time?” Merlin asks. Harry snuggles closer to him; Merlin is delightfully warm, and the way his chest vibrates against Harry’s cheek when he speaks is soothing.

“The best,” Eggsy says. “Skiing’s fucking awesome.”

“I’ll have to take you out to do it more,” Tilde grins. She falls onto the sofa Harry and Merlin are sharing, on the opposite end. Harry closes his eyes and traces lazy patterns into Merlin’s jumper.

“Um, Merlin?” Eggsy asks hesitantly.

“Yes, Eggsy?” Merlin’s voice is completely even. Harry thinks he might be missing something important, but he can’t be bothered to look up. He’s far too comfortable.

“I didn’t know you and Harry were…”

“A couple?” Merlin supplies.

“Yeah.”

“Really?” Roxy sounds incredulous. “I know I knew them growing up, but I thought it was obvious.”

“You don’t need to be a superspy to see that Grandad Galahad is totally in love with Merlin,” Olivia agrees.

“Jesus, am I the only one who didn’t know?”

“Afraid so, love,” Tilde says. “They danced at our wedding. How did you not know?”

“Merlin danced with Ginger too!”

“He’s gay, Eggsy,” Roxy snickers.

“I am still here, you know,” Merlin says. “And we all know Eggsy can be remarkably unobservant.”

“Oi!”

“No, Merlin’s right,” Tilde says. “You know I love you to pieces, but sometimes I wonder how you even became a spy.”

“Face it, Eggsy,” Roxy says. “When you’re not on a mission, you might as well be blindfolded, you can’t see what’s in front of your face.”

“He’s not the only one,” Merlin comments.

Harry hits his partner’s chest gently, not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. “Be nice,” he mumbles sleepily.

“On that note,” James says, and when Harry cracks his eyes open he sees James stand and nudge Percival awake, “I think it’s time for bed.”

***

Christmas Eve starts ungodly early, in Merlin’s honest opinion. He wakes to a cold bed, Harry nowhere to be found, and it’s enough to make him drag himself out of bed at six AM in search of his partner.

Harry is upstairs, whistling cheerfully as he pours the batter for crepes. Merlin wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and nuzzles into the soft sweater he’s donned. “What the fuck are you doing up?” he mumbles affectionately.

“Making breakfast,” Harry answers.

“I can see that. You do know it’s six in the morning, right?”

“If we want to decorate today, then we need to get started bright and early,” Harry says cheerfully. He turns, lifting Merlin’s chin for a sweet kiss, and then shoos him away, “Now out of my kitchen.”

“You know,” Merlin says, rolling his eyes, “I’m not actually going to curse your process.”

“Every time I cook with you in the kitchen, things end up getting burned. It’s a curse.”

“Or, it’s you not being able to resist my masculine charms,” Merlin teases pointedly, but he backs off anyway. Harry presses a mug of tea into his hands as he leaves, and Merlin gives him a grateful kiss on the cheek before settling in the living room.

Olivia comes up first, still in her pyjamas and hazy-eyed. She fetches her own mug of tea from the kitchen before joining Merlin, “Morning.”

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

“ _Very_ well,” Olivia says with relish.

Merlin chuckles, “You and Roxy finally settle things, then?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” Olivia says cheerfully. “Oh, hey babe!”

Roxy blinks blearily from the top of the stairs, then crashes down on the sofa next to Olivia and groans, “Why is everyone up so early?”

“A question I have been asking myself every holiday season for the past thirty years,” Merlin says. “I can’t get him up early to save his life eleven months out of the year, but the moment December hits, I can’t keep him in bed.”

“Sounds like a travesty,” Olivia snickers into her tea.

“Watch it,” Merlin says. “I can still demote you.” It’s a completely empty threat, of course. Even if he was offended (which he’s really not), there’s no chance in hell he’ll find someone as good as Olivia.

Roxy steals Olivia’s mug and takes a sip, then pulls a face, “Nope, relationship over. I can’t date someone who thinks black is a reasonable way to drink tea.”

“You don’t mean that,” Olivia says cheerfully.

“Nope,” Roxy agrees. “I’ll just have to live with the shame.”

“Morning, all,” James greets them as he arrives, a still-half-asleep Percival in tow. He deposits his husband on the couch, then fetches drinks for them both. Percival hunches over his, cradling it in his hands and squinting at them, like he thinks they might take it from him. James throws his arm over the back of the sofa, sprawling out and getting comfortable. “I see Harry has already taken command of the kitchen.”

“Which means I will not be allowed back in until the trip is over,” Merlin confirms.

“A fact of which we are all grateful for,” Percival mumbles into his mug.

Merlin ignores him, partly because Eggsy and Tilde join them, both looking more awake than most of the rest of them. “Harry cooking?” Eggsy asks Merlin.

“Actually, I’m just about done,” Harry calls over. “Who wants to help set the table?”

Roxy groans and buries her face in Olivia’s shoulder.

Once everyone has some breakfast in them, they’re a little more awake, which is a very good thing, because Harry cheerfully fetches a box from his suitcase and deposits it in the living room.  Eggsy pokes into it curiously, and frowns, “Are we decorating a tree?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry says. “Finding a properly sized tree out here would be nearly impossible, and I don’t condone the use of fake ones.”

“He really doesn’t,” Merlin confirms. Merlin had never cared one way or the other, but Harry was always very insistent that if they had a Christmas tree, it had to be real.

“So what’s with all the ornaments?” Eggsy asks.

“Oh, we’re still going to decorate,” Harry says. “Just not a tree. I’ve got some lovely garland we can put up, and stockings for the fireplace that Olivia and I embroidered everyone’s names on.”

Merlin shares a look with Percival as James lights up, and they leave the decorating to their partners and the twenty-year-olds. When Harry directs a pout his way, Merlin does tap out a series of commands on his clipboard to access the house’s sound system, and Harry’s Christmas playlist starts up. Harry beams at him, and Merlin smiles back.

When the living room has been decorated to everyone’s satisfaction, Eggsy, Tilde, and Roxy head out for more skiing, and at James’s nudging, Percival joins them while his partner stays behind with a book. Merlin stays on the sofa with his clipboard, glancing through some potential recruitment files that he’s been putting off looking at. Olivia declines skiing in favour of booting up her laptop and analysing the data she’d collected the previous day. Harry busies himself with the cameras at the kennels where Hamish II is spending the holiday. Given the puppy’s reaction last time they brought him on a plane, they’d both decided that leaving him home would be the better option. Still, Merlin misses the little bugger, and it’s clear Harry does too.

Eventually, Olivia closes her laptop, and Merlin puts down his tablet, and by the time the other four have returned, Harry, James, Merlin and Olivia are engaged in a heated game of Scrabble.

“We’re playing in fucking English, Harry,” James complains. “You can’t keep putting down French words.”

“Why not?” Harry argues. “They’re still words.”

“Not according to the dictionary we’re using!”

“Let him play it,” Olivia says.

“You’re just saying that because you’re winning,” James huffs. He looks up at Percival, “Darling, they’re being mean to me.”

“They caught you cheating at pulling letter tiles, didn’t they?” Percival says.

James opens his mouth, and then closes it again. Percival kisses his forehead, but tells him, “It’s your own fault.”

Dinner is relatively quiet. Harry makes it, naturally, but it’s basic fare. “He’s downplaying it so everyone’s even more impressed tomorrow,” Merlin explains to Eggsy while Harry shoots him a look of betrayal and ultimately agreement.

They all end up in the living room with eggnog, candles lit rather than having all the lights on, a fire going in the fireplace. It’s warm and comfortable, and Merlin wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulders when his partner snuggles into him.

“Is this how you lot normally celebrate Christmas?” Eggsy asks.

“We don’t normally go on vacation, if that’s what you’re asking,” Percival says.

“Percival and James usually come to our house,” Merlin explains. “Usually on Christmas eve rather than Christmas. Harry cooks, we all relax, maybe play a few games or watch some cheesy Christmas movies, James inevitably brings mistletoe and ends up making out with Percival, and we kick them out around midnight.”

“Sounds like fun,” Olivia comments.

“I never liked Christmas before I met Harry,” Merlin says. “We didn’t really celebrate it much in my house.”

“Mine neither,” Eggsy says. “Least not after Dad died. Mum always tried, but it wasn’t really the same.”

Percival nods, and Roxy squeezes her uncle’s ankle from where she and Olivia are curled up together on the floor. Merlin knows that the holidays are always a bittersweet time of year for their family.

“I’m glad I have you guys now,” Eggsy says.

“Kingsman should be a family,” Harry says. “We don’t just have each other’s back in the field. It extends to all areas of life.”

“Absolutely,” Roxy agrees.

***

On Christmas morning, Harry doesn’t just leave bed; he wakes Merlin up too. His partner groans and buries his face in the pillow, “Fuck off, Harry.”

“Darling, wake up, or I will carry you upstairs myself. Is that what you want?”

“Fine,” Merlin grumbles, “I’m getting up.”

It’s a testament to the fact that they’re all spies that where there was just empty floor by the fireplace last night, there is now a small stack of presents. Harry knows Merlin went up before he did, but he hadn’t heard anyone else, and that’s an impressive feat.

Merlin slumps down on the couch with the mug of tea Harry gives him, accepting the reindeer antlers Harry puts on his head without complaint, and Harry leaves him to wake up slowly while he makes pancakes.

James is up next, but he’s wisely left Percival downstairs. “Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas,” Harry returns, while Merlin merely mumbles into his tea. James gingerly deposits a sweater on the couch next to Merlin and then brings Harry his, which Harry pulls on with no complaint. Personally, he likes Merlin’s - a partially eaten gingerbread man with the phrase “bite me” in bold lettering - better, but his own – an absolutely tasteless depiction of those standard block-shaped reindeers having sex – isn’t bad either. Percival and James have matching ones, James’s “I’ve been naughty” to complement Percival’s “I’ve been nice.”

“You’ll get Merlin to wear his, won’t you?” James asks.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Percival thinks that the others being here might make him…less than enthusiastic.”

Harry laughs. “He’s always less than enthusiastic. Don’t worry, he’ll wear it.”

Sure enough, by the time the others start trickling upstairs, Merlin has the sweater on. Eggsy blinks and grins, but when he opens his mouth to comment, Merlin narrows his eyes and Eggsy shuts his mouth again. Roxy and Olivia have their own sweaters; Olivia’s is a standard snowman print, but Roxy’s has #elfie scrawled across it.

When he catches sight of Harry’s, Eggsy does say something. “Classy, Harry.”

“Thank you,” Harry says with a smug smile.

Pancakes are scarfed down so fast, Harry would assume he’s dealing with actual children waiting to get their Christmas presents, rather than a bunch of adults from a gentleman (and woman) spy organization. But he follows everyone into the living room.

There are more presents than he was expecting, honestly. Roxy, Eggsy (and by extension Tilde), Percival, and James all feed his collection of statues (that Merlin insists are really very tacky, but lets Harry keep up anyway) with a series of ones that he knows they’ve picked up on various missions, given the range of languages and slogans printed into their bases. Olivia made him and Merlin a pair of cross-stitches. Merlin’s has a cheesy magic-star wand and says “Ask me, I’m a wizard,” while Harry’s has “Fuck You” in the prettiest looping rainbow font he’s ever seen.

“It’s beautiful,” he tells her.

“Thought you’d like it,” she grins back.

Merlin gives Harry something that the exact size and shape of a ring box, and when Harry unwraps the paper, that’s exactly what it is. Harry raises his eyebrows at his partner, “I know I was the one with amnesia, but I’m fairly confident we’re already married, darling.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, “Just open the box, Harry.”

He does. Inside is a little bone-shaped tag. Harry lights up, “Really?”

“I wanted to run it by you first, but I was thinking that Hamish II might need a friend to keep him company while we’re at the office.”

Harry throws his arms around Merlin’s neck and kisses him, breaking just long enough to tell him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Merlin murmurs.

“Gross!” Olivia throws a balled-up piece of wrapping paper at them. “It’s like watching my dads get it on.”

“Trust me,” James says, “I’ve seen them do worse on Christmas.”

“That was a memorable year,” Percival remarks.

Harry grins. Merlin had made him his present that year, and Harry had been a bit eager to try it out. It may or may not be why they generally meet with Percival and James on Christmas eve now.

“Your turn,” Harry tells Merlin, and passes him his present.

Merlin unwraps the paper carefully. “You got me a scarf?” he says slowly.

“Not just any scarf,” Harry says. “I know you were complaining about your old one being worn out, so I got you a new one. See? I pay attention.”

Merlin unwinds all ten feet of it, and then laughs. “You really do. Thank you, Harry.”

There are other exchanges, but Harry excuses himself from them, citing the fact that dinner will take him hours to make and he needs to get started if they want to eat at a reasonable time today.

***

“You weren’t kidding,” Eggsy groans into his mouthful of mashed potatoes. “This is fucking awesome, Harry.”

“Manners, Eggsy,” Harry reminds him, even as he smiles at the praise.

“He’s right, though,” Tilde says, swallowing another bite of turkey. “This is very good.”

Merlin slides his foot against Harry’s under the table – and he’s certain it’s Harry’s foot because his partner is directly beside him. That was a mistake that he and James have decided to never speak of again. It’s not the same as it used to be, considering his feet are now made of metal and plastic, but the familiarity of the gesture is soothing anyway. “Well done, love,” he says quietly.

“I almost don’t want to go home tomorrow,” Olivia says. “It’s been absolutely lovely.”

“You spent half the time working anyway,” Roxy teases, nudging her shoulder against her girlfriend’s. “I doubt you’ll notice the difference.”

“No, she’s right,” Eggsy says. “It’s different like this, ain’t it? Just us…we’re like the heart of Kingsman now, right? You get the tech as the brains and the handling people as…I don’t know, the veins?” Eggsy makes a face like he’s starting to regret this metaphor, and Merlin fights a laugh, but Eggsy soldiers through, “But us? Merlin and Vivian and the Round Table? We’re the heart and soul of Kingsman.”

“I think you’re leaving a few people out,” James says delicately.

“No, I’m not,” Eggsy says. “’Cause you and Tilde, you’re part of it too. You used to be Lancelot. You nearly gave your life for Kingsman. And Tilde’s what gets me up in the morning. She means as much to me as Kingsman does.” He puts his hand over hers, and she smiles at him. “You two are as much Kingsman as the rest of us.”

“Hear, hear,” Harry says. He raises his glass, and everyone else does the same. “To Kingsman. May it grow and change, but always have the same beating heart.”

“To Kingsman,” everyone echoes, and they clink glasses.

***

On the plane ride home, Harry joins Merlin in the cockpit rather than Olivia, who chooses to hang back with Roxy in the cabin. “This was a good idea,” he says softly.

“I agree,” Merlin says.

“I do think we should take a proper vacation, though,” Harry says pointedly. “Just the two of us. Maybe somewhere sunny and relaxing?”

“Point taken,” Merlin says. “I’ll see what I can do.”


End file.
